


A Monster in Our Midst

by kathrikat



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Multi, Murder, Murder Mystery, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22330495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathrikat/pseuds/kathrikat
Summary: Kirk and his crew experience something drastic during their celebration of their fourth year in space.NOTE: Unfinished, will not update
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock
Kudos: 12





	1. Free Fall

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first star trek story. I know it's not the longest beginning but I tried my best.

The small tinny of a bell resounded through the banquet hall.

"Welcome everyone. It gives me great pleasure to bring to you today, the celebration of our completion of another year in this five year mission. It's been a ride I will never forget having spent with you during these past four years and I only hope to make more memorable moments and discoveries with you in the upcoming one." Kirk paused, making sure to glance around.

"Tonight, we will be eating from our finest Earth buffet that covers a range of different Earth cultures. During which, ballroom dance will be open to all personnel at any time. Additionally, complimentary champagne will be provided soon. I'd also like to give a special thanks to our Yurq 7 Orchestra who will be playing for us live the rest of the evening. Thank you for listening and I expect everyone to have a wonderful time," Kirk smiled, then added, "And that's an order."

The captain stepped down from the podium, acknowledging his audience with a slight nod. Murmurs and shuffling stirred as the crew started to form lines for the buffet and find dance partners. McCoy, who had been in the corner on Jim's right approached him from behind.

"That was a nice speech, Jim. Short, sweet, and to the point."

"My specialty," Kirk mused, reaching for Leonard's hand and pulling him into a long overdue hug.

"Say, you wouldn't know where a man could get his hands on that champagne, do you?"

"I'd say I do."

One of Kirk's arms found its way around the doctor's shoulders, leading him along the outskirts of the ballroom dance floor. There, to the right was a line that extended out and past the far left exit. Kirk guessed if Bones got in line now, it would be about a 45 minute wait.

McCoy's nose wrinkled, "A _line_ for champagne? You know I'm not exactly a man of patience, Jim."

"Then you better get in line now, shouldn't you?"

The doctor raised a brow, then stalked off for the end of the line.

In that, Kirk released a huff of breath and rubbed the back of his head. McCoy was stubborn as bull, but in a good way. It was something Kirk admired. Now then, he'd delivered his speech and secured his place in line. Next was the time to look for Spock. On the off chance that either party was asked about this dance together, both would claim that this was a specially reserved custom for a captain and the second in command during celebration. And no one was ever the wiser.

He scanned the crowd left and right. No luck. He checked the buffet, lounging tables and nearby restrooms. No luck. There was a sinking feeling in his chest that told him Spock wasn't in the banquet hall. That he had skipped out for obvious reasons. He sat down in a nearby chair in defeat and watched the dance floor in a trance.

_How time flies,_ he thought. It was a miracle he and the ones he loved still stood here. He rejoiced in seeing them in this very moment. In fact, no matter what happened in the next year, it was this very moment that he would remember most. A time where there was no heartache, no turmoil. Just music, celebration, and typical human banter. Shoes twirled in a rapid thrill-fire. His heart ached for those that could not be here.

"Captain," a familiar voice came to the foreground. He straightened his posture and looked at the figure standing before him. It was Spock, holding out his hand.

"What is it?" Kirk replied, half anticipatory and half embarrassed. He hadn't realized he'd been so caught up in his head.

"You are sitting in the section designated to looking for dance partners."

Kirk stood up, and looked behind him. "Indeed, I am."

Spock continued his spiel, "If this is your request, I will oblige. Customary purposes only, of course."

"Of course," Kirk concurred.

Bones stood happily in the banquet hall after several of the personnel gave up on the wait. They floated across the dance floor like ghosts. Eerie, nostalgic notes in forte sent chills down his spine. He itched to be out there.

Several carts were rolling out now. Glasses glimmered underneath the chandelier-like lighting. An orchestra accompanied the inevitable tinkle of glass hitting glass. The champagne had arrived. The line moved forward.

Hands intertwined. His Vulcan partner was three times stronger than he was, yet here he appeared softer than dough. For a moment, Kirk closed his eyes, taking in the feeling of dancing with Spock. It was like free fall. Then, a sound jerked him away from his perfect moment.

_Thump!_ Something crashed into the metaloleum flooring. Small murmurs echoed. Although Kirk could hear it, he could not see what it was. _Thump!_ Then another. _Thump!_ And another! One by one, a total of five people dropped like flies, writhing and foaming at the mouth.

_"Champagne's been poisoned!"_ The word was out and from there it became a game of telephone over who could pass along this information the fastest and the loudest. Glasses shattered against the metaloleum floor as terrified personnel got rid of it any way they could. Bones fell to one ensigns side in hopes of saving the young man's life. Meanwhile, Kirk and Spock took the next best action.

"Spock, shut off every main exit. Nobody gets in or out of this room, understand?"

"Acknowledged, captain."

Kirk watched his Vulcan friend dart off into a sprint as the banquet hall continued to collapse into a frenzy. A mixture of frightened, scared, horrified, and overall confused crew members. Kirk's formal attire felt extra tight. His head was spinning.

"Nobody leaves this room!" Kirk bellowed in a tizzy. At least a dozen or more people had made their way out of the banquet hall with no way for Kirk to keep track of them all. So much for keeping everyone inside.

The gurgling and writhing of those infected came to an abrupt stop.

The room fell silent.

* * *

It was another sleepless night for Kirk on the U.S.S Enterprise. For Earth standards, it was the equivalent of 3 in the morning. What could've caused this? Who could've done this? And why? Kirk's brows furrowed deeper. It was such cruelly timed killings. What was supposed to be a relaxing, celebratory time had flipped into a traumatic nightmare. It was the kind of killings Kirk hated most. Pointless ones.

He pushed the log recorder button on the desk in front of him.

_"Captain's Log, Stardate 2250.2. No longer than 4 standard hours ago five of my crew men were killed on my watch during our annual celebration in this five year mission. I've sent trusted crew members to help piece together exactly what happened. They each will be inside my quarters in 5 minutes to convene about what and who could've done this. I'll update then."_

A few moments later his door chimed and the captain welcomed in his medical, science, and communication officers. Each of them lined up right to left from highest rank to lowest. Kirk could read the nervous anticipation on Bones' and Uhura's faces, but Spock remained emotionless as ever.

"Bones," Kirk began, "tell me about the crime scene."

Bones stepped forward with a slow foot. The interrogation had begun. "Well, the victims I was able to examine began to foam at the mouth and writhe in 10 second convulsions. When I examined the champagne I found the poison to be an extraction from an ancient and potently acidic poison dubbed "dragon sand". Five people have died, Jim."

"But not only five people drank the champagne. Isn't that right, Mr. Spock?"

"That is correct, captain. According to the young ensign that waited on those in line, he served ten to twelve people before the ill effects started to take place."

"Do we know if they were targeted specifically?"

Spock shook his head, "There is no way they could have been targeted for a specific purpose. Someone would have had to have known exactly how far away from the stand they were going to be and correlate that with the correct champagne bottle. Even then, there is a gamble, captain. One would not know for certain if the waiter would pick the right glass or champagne bottle."

"Speaking of, Uhura," Kirk urged on, "tell me what you talked about with the champagne company."

Uhura swallowed before she spoke, but was confident in her tone. "Well, Captain, the champagne itself it highly tested for any sort of toxins before it ships off. If someone did want to poison the champagne before shipment, it wouldn't be wise, considering there are identifiers for each person that packaged it."

Kirk was silent longer than anyone deemed comfortable. Before he spoke again, he stood up to face his crew. "Then I'm afraid the worst is true."

Spock raised his brow, "What do you mean, Captain?"

Bones' face quirked up, a lightbulb dinging to life in his head, "He means-"

"The champagne could've only been poisoned by someone on board," Kirk finished grimly.


	2. The Jar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A random jar appears on Kirk's desk...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is short bc i want this story out of drafts and into the world since im tired of unfinished shit taking up space rent free in my mind and computer

Uhura failed to hide her shock, "By someone on board? But Captain, who could've done something like this?"

The captain remained seated but kept his face stern, "That's what we're going to find out. I want the three of you to keep this as confidential as possible. This stays between everyone in this room, understood?"

"Understood," the each of them said in unison.

"In the meantime, Bones, I want you to keep working on why this 'dragon sand' effected some but not others. Keep a close eyes on those that did drink the champagne to make sure none of its effects aren't just in an incubation period for whatever reason.

"Uhura, I need your communications skills. Talk to others about what happened, but don't make it obvious that you're interrogating them. Keep it casual. You are dismissed."

Bones, Uhura and Spock turned to leave, but before Spock could make it to the door, Kirk stopped him in his tracks.

"Spock, fall back. I need your private input."

"Yes?" The Vulcan turned back with one raised brow, keeping his hands behind his back.

"Tell me, what do you make of all this? Do you think there will be more killings?"

Spock visibly collected his thoughts, "Unfortunately, I have seen this before, Captain. When someone, especially a human, kills once with no obvious remorse, the probability of them doing so again is extremely high." Spock stayed poised in front of the captain's desk.

"What makes you think the killer is human?" Kirk leaned forward now, his hands lightly clasped together.

Spock shrugged, "There are more humans on the Enterprise than any other species. It is only logical to think so."

"Of course," Kirk nodded, "of course. Thank you. You are dismissed."

The captain did not get up from his desk for a long time.

* * *

It was the next morning the second strange occurrence happened. A jar, sealed and airtight appeared on captain Kirk's desk. Upon first look, the jar was relatively large, big enough to stick one's head in. Inside, was what appeared to be some kind of meat. It didn't smell, but he knew that if he opened it he would never forget it.

So he dared not touch it. No, his mother taught him better than to indulge in such mysteries with all that's happened. Instead he ordered people from the lab to touch it, inspect it.

After several hours the doctor, came into his quarters.

"The news, Bones?"

The doctor shook his head. "It's a dissolved human body alright."

* * *

When Kirk got the news, he wasn't sure what to do. He felt a pit deep in his stomach. Some concoction of boiling anger, amalgamated guilt, and deep sadness. He would find who did this. And he would do whatever it took to bring them down.


	3. Twisted Horror

Kirk stood in the sickbay doorway. His stance was halfway in with hopefulness and halfway out with reluctance. He hated bad news and after recent events, the captain feared the worst when he was called in the dead of sleep for the third time in a standard week.

Bones stared up at the captain, lips pulled together grimly. "He's dead, Jim."

Kirk furrowed his brows and swallowed. "Another one?" He strode his way towards the doctor and leaned tense shoulders over the bio-bed in order to get a better look at the cause of death. His initial glance made him look away, rightfully sick in the face.

"This is pure insanity! Who on this ship could do something like _this_?" McCoy gestured with outrage toward the bio-bed.

Kirk's second take was easier now that he knew he could keep his lunch down. Taking note, he saw that the poor ensign's hands were curled into permanent fists in the cold suspension that he floated in. But more importantly, lining from the bottom of the corpse to the top was what Kirk guessed to be around 70 to 80 lacerations. Jagged, gnarly. There was not much left to distinguish that what was in the suspension was once a person, save for one lonely eye that, despite milky, stared deeper into Kirk than he cared to admit.

"Who found the body?" Kirk questioned, his stomach churning at the thought of coming upon something like _this_ unprompted.

"Chekov," Bones replied softly. "As you can imagine he didn't take it very well. It was stuffed behind some of our armory like unwanted garbage. He's been locked in his quarters all day. No one can get him to talk let alone leave his quarters. I thought maybe you could try talking to him."

"I'll be on it as soon as I can, but I'm going to give him some time first. You make sure Spock is informed about this and I'll be back later. I need to think this through myself."

"Jim?" McCoy's tone was much quieter now. It was scared and fearful but stubborn as an ox. Bones felt small and weak. All Kirk could hear was strength and bravery.

"Yes, Bones?" the first in command turned his head back, keeping on a thoughtful expression.

"Do you really think there's someone among us capable of _this?_ I mean _poison, acid,_ ** _slaughter? "_**

Kirk took the doctor by the shoulders and faced him so their gazes could meet. "You know I love you Bones, so I'll be as honest as I can. I don't know. I don't know who or what could've done this. I can't tell you," the captain looked away briefly, "and it hurts me to know I can't. But I _will_ tell you that when we find out, there will be the utmost of consequences."

Bones felt the absence of the warmth from Kirk's hands as he watched him exit sickbay.

* * *

It had thankfully, been four days since the last untimely death. During those four days, Chekov hadn't come out of his room once. Not to eat, not to drink, not even at the request of Uhura herself. Some of the crew began to bet upon how long he would stay in there or if he would starve himself to death. Of course, Bones would never allow it. There were overrides to unlock doors for these kinds of situations. The part that Uhura to think of that someone she cared so deeply about going from eating cabbage dishes like a horse, to starving himself to _death_.

There had been many times that Uhura and Chekov had faced death together. She knew he hated the occasional loss that happened during missions. It was always a tragedy when you had to report back to families that their loved ones died in duty. Especially when you had no body to send. Yet, to be cooped up for four days... Uhura couldn't imagine what he had seen. She had never seen the body herself, but she had heard things. Occasional whispers between Spock and Kirk. It was never good.

Uhura shook her head.

_Oh, poor Chekov..._

* * *

James stood outside of Chekov's quarters. Patient fingers softly rapped.

"Chekov, it's Captain Kirk." He waited a few seconds. The silence was deafening.

"Now, Chekov, you can't stay in there forever. You know as well as I do Bones would never allow it."

Then, a voice, loud but distant through the metal door. "You'll never get me to talk, Captain! Everyone else has already failed. I doubt you can do much more. So leave me alone!"

Kirk could tell the security officer was on edge. Still frightened. Each one of them were stuck on a ship with serial murderer. They ate at the same cafeteria as them. He didn't blame Chekov for acting the way he did.

"But aren't we talking now?"

After a few seconds, the hiss of the door unlocking told Kirk he'd won. Stepping through, he shielded his eyes, trying to get them to adjust to the darkness. There was a single night light plugged into the wall that served as the only source of light. He maneuvered through the darkness and into the bedroom, careful not to knock too many things over. Inside was Pavel, who sat on the edge of his bed head in his hands, covering his face.

Slowly, assuredly, Kirk sunk into the bed next to the younger man. They said nothing. There was something in this silence that told Chekov it was okay to talk about what happened. Maybe it was the natural leadership and authority that Kirk emanated. Maybe it was because Kirk was trusted and beloved by all. He felt warm. The silence was deafening.

"What I have seen, captain..." Chekov began with a tremble as he leaned his head against Kirk's shoulder. One eye peeked out through his hands and he caught the rough shape of Kirk's face in the darkness, illuminated by his second night light. "...it is a twisted kind of horror."

The sudden touch of Kirk's arms around his body made him jump. Then hands rubbing his arms soothed the younger officer's body to give in. He could hide away no longer. Although the captain could not see Chekov's face, he could feel his body begin to quiver.

"I know, I know. I saw him too."

"We live amongst a monster, captain. How do I keep them safe, when I share the same air as them? When we eat at the same table? I don't trust anyone on this damned ship. It's beginning to really mess with my head."

"Do you trust me?" Kirk's tone was serious yet playful.

Chekov released himself from Kirk's embrace to look at him in the eyes. Half of his face was lit up by the night light and the other was shrouded in darkness. He admired the captain in silence.

" _Do I trust you?_ Of course I trust you. You are here, aren't you?"

Kirk smiled, genuine and warm. "Well, trust me when I say this; we're going to get to the bottom of this, and we're going to do it together."

Chekov wiped his face and flashed a sheepish grin, "Yes, sir. Let's do it."


End file.
